The Opportunity
by beautyrare
Summary: Hermione receives the time turner at the start of second year instead of third.
1. The Opportunity

_Dear Miss Granger,_

 _By now you have received your marks for your first year at Hogwarts School. A Gryffindor student at the top of her year would impress anyone, but such excellence from a muggleborn is simply unheard of._

 _I have sought special permission from the Ministry of Magic which will allow you to attend more classes than there is time for. Your academic record ensured that permission was granted. However, should you choose to accept, your workload will increase tremendously. Absolute discretion will also be required of you._

 _For details of the opportunity, join me in my office at the end of the Welcoming Feast. No matter your decision, I am proud to have you in my house._

 _Yours sincerely,_  
 _Professor McGonagall_  
 _Deputy Headmistress_

Hermione folded the letter and put it neatly back into its envelope. What could Professor McGonagall have meant by "more classes than there is time for"? What was so special about taking extra classes that the Ministry needed to be contacted?

The other nine times Hermione had read the letter, she had beamed at the praise. But there was nothing but talk of Harry and Ronald being expelled for crashing a flying car - the Anglia! Her eyes got even sadder as they fell upon an untouched treacle tart. What would she do without the boys? The rumors seemed to confirm themselves when Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore excused themselves rather briskly.

She was almost in tears when the first years began to assemble to be escorted. At that moment, Percy tapped her shoulder.

"I'm to accompany you to McGonagall," he said suspiciously.

Hermione was too depressed to come up with an excuse to satisfy Percy's curiosity, so she simply nodded. Apparently burdened with more pressing responsiblities, Percy did not dawdle after successfully delivering Hermione to the door of the office.

"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall said affectionately as Hermione entered.

"Have Harry and Ron been expelled? I'm sure they didn't mean to crash the Anglia. I'm sure they used their best judgement! They probably panicked -"

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall repeated. "You needn't worry about your classmates. They have not been expelled. However, if their actions tonight serve as an example of their best judgment, perhaps a positive influence is in order," the professor repeated in her breathless "sheer dumb luck" voice.

Hermione nodded gravely.

"Now," said the teacher brightly, "why don't you sit down?"

Hermione looked around but there was no place to sit.

"Oh, how thoughtless of me. Tsk," said Professor McGonagall, and immediatey transfigured the large chalkboard near her desk into a beautiful Rococo chair with a red velvet upholstery. "Come, come."

Hermione eagerly sat in the chair, which adjusted the length of its legs so that it suited her perfectly. "Professor, I don't mind the discretion, but aren't my timetables full?"

"Yes!" said Professor McGonagall, producing a tiny box from her robes. "But, if you are willing, you may add _more tables_."


	2. Time Tables and Moaning Myrtle

In addition to the seven courses all second years must take, Hermione blissfully added Magical Theory, Arithmancy, and the Study of Ancient Runes to her schedule. In all, she would be taking ten courses this year. Ten!

While the time turner was absurdly handy, Professor McGonagall warned her not to abuse it. Rewinding a maximum of five hours per day, she would leave next summer roughly 21 percent older, or 1.7 months older, than her classmates.

On September 2nd, Hermione awoke to her pillow zipping out from beneath her head and swatting her face, which she charmed the night before. This way, her dorm mates wouldn't be disturbed by an alarm clock. She filled a cup with water from the jug on the window sill, then moved to the common room so as to hide the scratching of her quill.

At once Hermione set to work writing up her schedule. She pursed her lips as she made up third and fourth time tables for each day, doubling and sometimes tripling McGonagall's recommended maximum. Hermione didn't see the harm in squeezing a few more months in. Even if she added fifteen hours to each day instead of five, she would only be 5.1 months older than Harry and Ron, which couldn't possibly be obvious. Still, she respected her head of house and couldn't help a contrite blush.

After adding adequate time for study periods, naps, and personal maintenance, Hermione found that it would be most efficient to add fifteen hours to each day, giving herself loads of time for revision on the weekends.

"Hermione. Is that - Is that homework?" asked Harry in a puzzled voice. "How could you have homework?"

"Harry! There you are. What on earth were you thinking!" she shouted in a whisper.

"Dunno. I completely panicked," he admitted.

That was the trouble with Harry. Everything he said and did was a hundred percent sincere. Her plan to be somewhat hostile toward him today turned into an urge to pat his hand.

"But I have loads to tell you, " he went on. "The reason you haven't received any of my letters, the reason we couldn't reach the platform. Right, so this house elf turns up in my bedroom..."

He told her all about Dobby and his prophecy of impending doom.

"That's tricky," said Hermione. "House elves are extremely powerful. On the bright side, he seems to have your best interest at heart."

"I think I might be better off if he had my worst interest at heart."

When Ron finally joined them, he criticized Hermione for the schoolwork she had mentioned in one of her letters.

"Don't tell me you didn't crack open even one of your textbooks!" she shot back.

"It's the summer holiday! It's just not done," Ron scowled.

Eventually they returned to their dormitories to get dressed and pack their schoolbags. Hermione took her hair out of plaits, attempted to comb the unruly mop, and finally compromised with a hairband. They met in the Great Hall for breakfast where they received their schedules. Then it was off to Herbology by nine.

Throughout the day, Hermione was impatient to give the time turner a go.

"A bit hungry, are you?" Ron asked, matching Harry's bewildered expression as Hermione shoveled fork after fork of shepherd's pie into her mouth at lunch.

"Puberty," she offered, her mouth still stuffed. At last she slammed her fork down and seized her bag. "Bye!"

"Twelve twenty-five," Hermione murmured on her way to a deserted lavatory she had noted in passing. "Five turns will take me to seven-thirty, which..."

She pushed past a very creaky door marked Out of Order and pulled the time turner up from beneathed her clothes. Her heart raced. She couldn't do it.

"I'll just take a pee first," she decided and chose the only stall with the door still on its hinges.

The moment she sat on the toilet, she heard a very unpleasant voice saying. "I'll show you to mock me!"

Hermione screamed as the toilet water shot up like a geizer and soaked her just as well as if she had taken a swim in the Black Lake. What's more, a ghost zoomed up to her face and bared its teeth. "That's how all bullies ought to be treated."

"I beg your pardon, but I'm not a bully! I didn't mean to sit on your toilet," Hermione croaked.

After she had reached a settlement with Moaning Myrtle, Hermione used a hot-air charm on her clothing, which steamed as it dried off. She applied the same charm to her hair, which ended up slightly bushier than before. She wondered briefly if anyone would notice. She decided that she could tell them that she ran into Moaning Myrtle and had to apply a hot-air charm to her hair.

Politely wishing Myrtle a nice day, she reached the corridor and checked the time: twelve fifty.

This time, she slipped into a tiny broom cupboard and gave the time turner five turns.


	3. Shenanigans

Hermione could literally feel the hours ticking back, yet it all happened at once. She knew it worked because the light under the door had brightened. She was closing the door of the broom cupboard when she found Professor Snape standing in front of her.

"Miss Granger," he said. "Looking spry this morning, I see."

"How do you do, Professor Sn..." she began with as much dignity as possible, when he murmured, "Forgive me," and lifted the time turner slightly off her chest. "Yes, the mark of a star pupil."

A contemptuous smirk tugged at his lips and he strutted away, his black robes billowing behind him. Pulling herself together, she started towards the library. Thankfully it was in the opposite direction.

When Neville arrived at the library, Hermione caught him staring more than once. Upon confronting him, he sheepishly explained that he had seen her retire for a nap just minutes before. Yet here she was, engrossed in about five books and three rolls of parchment. She even had a second quill going, "as if you'd been here for hours," he added, shrugging.

"You must have seen someone else," she said, truly just as confused as he was.

He nodded, although he was frowning, and didn't mention it again.

When it was dinnertime in Hermione time, she couldn't go to the Great Hall, because Hermione A was there shoveling shepherd's pie into her mouth. However, the dear house elves in the kitchens fed her without questions. After her split period of Ancient Studies, she used the time turner again to travel to eight o'clock. Hermiones A and B would be in the Great Hall and the library respectively.

With her hair plaited and her pajamas on, she headed up the stairs to the girls' dorm, but not before smiling at Neville on his way down. When she realized what she had just done, she gasped and slapped her palms to her cheeks.

The next four days passed productively and without incident. At least, it was four days for Harry and Ron. For Hermione it was six and a half. By the second day of classes, she had written up the perfect study schedule for the weekend - provided of course that Harry and Ron kept out of trouble. She had twice already snapped at Ron for plotting to use the invisibility cloak to go to Hogsmeade.

"For heaven's sake, you've just escaped expulsion!" she cried.

"Hermione's right," said Harry. "What was that charm we're meant to know for the quiz today?"

"The Cutting Charm," said Ron.

"You mean the Severing Charm," said Hermione.

Ron opened his mouth to retort, but Harry nudged him.

"Let's practice," said Ron darkly.

"How about one of these?" said Harry, producing a sack of rock cakes which Hagrid had sent with him.

" _Can_ it be cut in half?" Ron wondered.

Harry shrugged, levitated the cake, and said clearly, " _Diffindo_."

The cake rickashayed like a hot bullet off the walls of the common room, ultimately striking Neville in the head and knocking him out.

That night, Harry didn't appear for dinner.

"D'you suppose he's alright?" said Dean.

"He probably lost track of time polishing his Nimbus Two Thousand," said George.


End file.
